


From Neon to Nye

by brightOrange_Angel



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, hope thats ok, just becoming bros, late secret santa gift, takin on the extra project, they arent dating yet really, woot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-12 22:14:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3357197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightOrange_Angel/pseuds/brightOrange_Angel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave had no idea the pretty face he met at the club would show up in his Poetry Class the next morning.<br/>((Gift for Putez on Tumblr!))</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Neon to Nye

The bass thumped through Dave's chest as he danced on the crowded floor. His shades were tucked into his shirt collar, red-eyes flashing with amusement and giddy excitement as the mob mentality set in his brain. Before he knew it though, the music was changing and the crowd died down a little bit, leaving him breathless and grinning.

"Hey," A voice next to him spoke. "You okay there?"

He turned, glancing down to see a guy about his age, with eyes that could only be described as a dizzying neon blue. They kind of took Dave's breath away. "I'm fine dude. Fine as a French wine that's been sittin' in a nasty cellar for hundreds of years only to finally come up and taste the fresh air and over priced lipstick of snobby women but it's still totally okay because that cellar was shit and the rats made for poor conversation so it is totally fine with the change of scenery. That is how fine I am."

The guy laughed, a small snort interrupting his giggle fit. "Do you always sound like that, or have you had one too many?"

"Ouch, offended. I am as sober as a Saint on Sunday service, thank ya very much."

"Right right, so what's your name?"

Dave quirked an eyebrow. "Who's asking?"

"John. John is asking. Um, I'm John by the way," He gave a small smile.

"Well John, y'all have officially found yourself talking to the one and only Dave E. Strider."

"You're a dork, Dave. It's actually pretty funny."

Dave's jaw almost dropped. "I'll have you know I am a certified cool kid."

"Riiight," John said, jumping a little as his phone rang. Dave laughed at the anime opening he recognized as the theme. Naruto, really? This guy was such a fucking nerd. "Oh, that's probably my ride. Talk to you later Dave, it was nice meeting you!"

Dave blinked. "Uh, yeah, you too man. See you around." He really hoped he could, too. John actually looked like a pretty okay guy, even if he sounded like a bit of an ass. dave could totally see them being friends.

* * *

 

The young Strider rolled out of bed the next morning and pulled on an orange T-shirt and black jeans. As he fixed his hair and brushed his teeth, he started thinking about John again. He wondered where the guy was from, if he'd run into him again, what the fuck was up with the slime green shirt he'd had on. All that and more danced through his head as he threw on his worn in converse and snagged his shades. He had places to be. Specifically a poetry class. Met every Saturday at the local library, and he hadn't missed a meeting yet. The thought made him proud.

"Morning Dave," greeted the librarian.

"Morning Ms. Leijon," Dave returned with a small smile, before stepping into meeting room. He snagged his bright red red notebook from the waiting basket and sat down in the very front row of chairs, flipping it open to the next clean page. "Alright, what's the warm-up?" He murmured to himself.

"Haiku about Winter," said a familiar voice to his left. 

Dave looked up, jaw nearly dropping when he saw John only two seats away. "John?! Holy shit. What. Why are you? Um. Hi?"

John laughed at him, blue notebook sitting open in his lap. "I needed some inspiration for my next piano piece, so I figured I'd sit in on the lesson today! It's kinda funny seeing you here though, you didn't strike me as the poetic type."

"I am all hells of poetic bro. Shakespeare wishes he had my talent man. I am that damn divine."

John smiled a little, gesturing to his notebook. "Write me something then, prove it."

"Consider it done. Prepare to be wooed."

"Oh my, whatever did I, the humble John Egbert, do to deserve the wooing of the infamous Dave Strider!"

"Well Egbert, you challenged my mad poet skillz. Skillz with a Z for the irony of course. So now I am going to woo you properly and show you who's boss."

John snickers. "Go ahead Casanova, I dare you."

Dave finds himself grinning as he puzzles over his poetic problems, pen in hand. When he scratches out what he believes to be a decent piece he hands it over to John to read, surprised when the slightly shorter male starts to snicker again. "What is so funny?"

"You are, oh Dave this is gold dude!"

Dave snorts. "Thanks bro, nice to know."

"Oh, I've graduated to 'Bro' status already?" John grins to match his own.

"Hell yeah man. You're the coolest dork this side of the Mississippi."

"Well then, 'bro'," John giggles a bit, "I'm heading out for Micky D's after this with a few friends. Wanna come?"

"Count me right the fuck in. I can taste the chicken nuggets already. Yes. Hell yes. Hell fucking yes."

They shared a fist bump and Dave gave an internal smile. This was easily the best coincidence ever in the history of coincidences. Shit like this needed to happen more often, in his opinion. But fuck having opinions, he had a new friend to chill with. Suddenly, his smile was much more external.

(It stayed that way until he got home and promptly got a face full of plush puppet ass.)


End file.
